Catalyst
by Vulcant13
Summary: The Story of Vatrol Lentos, a space marine of the Exorcist Chapter. When A daemon takes Lentis over he must struggle to cast the daemon out of his mind and body. He will learn to know the very truth and temptations of Chaos
1. Prologue: True Damnation

Prologue: True Damnation

The desolated hallway reeked of ungrowth and the unbound horror and emotions of the Warp. The strewn bodies of space marines lay where they had died. The husks of their bodies were rotting into dust and would soon be made into suits of dusty and broken Mk 6 power armour. A lone man stood in the corridor. He looked into the blown out entrance with a blank look of drawn-out pain. This was torturing him. The man was threatened to be broken by its slow and painful approach. His body wouldn't respond. It was numb with overwhelming emotions, inhuman emotions. Daemonic thoughts and desires were running through his overloaded senses. Something was terribly wrong. His body was not his own.

Without thought from him, his body moved towards the broken frame and the summoning chamber inside. This was the Exorcist's most holy chamber. The black veil in the door's frame melted away at his back as he stepped inside. The darkness was invaded by a daemonic glow emanating from the dirty runes in the broken Exorcist cell. The man saw Librarian Carze crucified upon the blood-splattered wall. He was still alive in some macabre form of life. His armed had been stripped away and he wore nothing except chaotic runes etched upon his violated flesh. The defiled Librarian strained to lift his head to see the newcomer. Carze regarded the shaking man through his lidless eyes. The man dry heaved onto himself at the sight of the Librarian.

Carze began to open his jaw as if to say something. The jaw snapped and the librarian's mouth continued to grow into a gaping maw. The teeth grew into long fangs and the features of Librarian Carze rapidly melted and changed into features characteristic of a daemon. Raw Chaos flowed into the room out of the daemon's still-open maw. The temperature dropped rapidly until the man could see his own terrified breath. The warp solidified onto the walls and floor of the room, including the broken forms of the space marines and the bones of their servants. The newly appeared daemon turned its hateful gaze to the man. The man couldn't cry out in pain and fear as the daemon's gaze began to peel and blister his skin. His body began to rise off the floor and the room began to distort in shape. The Daemon took its long, clawed hand and stuck it into the wall. Its hand reached in father and stopped. Seconds elapsed and the man stared forward in a horrified curiosity. The Daemon turned its head back to the floating man and its mouth slipped into a cruel grin. It ripped the hand out wall holding a tiny object.

The daemon walked forward and drew its hand up to the man's chest. The man tried to fight against the invisible bonds holding him and prayed feverishly to the Emperor for deliverance.

"He holds no power in the realm of the damned, human," the Daemon hissed gleefully. The suspended figure only tried to break the bonds more. The Daemon grinned once more and laughed as he made a shallow cut in the man's throbbing chest. The man screamed and flailed his head around in the pain of the Daemon's touch. It paused drinking in the misery and pain of the man's scream. He made seven more cuts and formed the star of Chaos on his chest.

"I'm really interested in ripping your throat out," said the Daemon over the screaming. "I won't end you like that though. My Gods deserve a proper thank you and you will be a glorious one." Then it grabbed the screaming man's hand. New waves of agony spurted from the tortured man's lips. The Daemon neatly cut off 4 fingers on each his hands. He wouldn't allow the man to slip into unconsciousness from blood loss and bent down and breathed on each of the bleeding hands. The daemon's breath cauterized the wound and began melting the hands into two disfigured lumps. The man's screams grew louder.

The Daemon took the small glass orb it had retrieved from the warped walls and set it onto the ground around the fragments of the Librarian's armor. It took the severed fingers and spread them back from the orb while smearing the blood into a line. The Daemon looked at the eight-pointed star of Chaos that was newly made onto the floor. It took a talon and stabbed it into its own heart and drew out a single drop of black blood. The talon then dabbed the blood onto the glass orb, completing the ritual. The warp material on the floor began to twist and writhe as the Daemon's ritual began its nasty work. The man who had fallen back to painful whimpers began to scream once more.

"Hush, now. We are done. Be grateful that you are a glorious gift to the Gods, for this is an honor to you," snarled the Daemon as it turned to face the man again. He looked at the daemon and its terrible grin and knew his soul was forfeit. He began to progress to the ritual portal that led to the warp itself. He tried to scream but the sound choked in his chest and the emotion was sucked away into the portal. He moved ever closer and the warp stole him. It began to steal everything he was, his emotions, his memories. His very soul was now belonging to Chaos.

The moment he teetered on the edge of the Daemon's portal he looked down into Chaos and knew that he was truly damned.


	2. Chapter 1 Aspirations

Chapter 1- Aspirations

Aspirant Vitrol Lentos woke with a start. He was sweating and shaken from the dream. It wasn't a new dream. After he was chosen by the demi-godlike space marines as a potential recruit he had begun to have sections of the dream. The travel through the Warp had collected all of the pieces into one terrible nightmare that he had been dreaming for as long ago he left Jaris, his home world. He looked around his spartanly decorated cell. If you could call it decorated at all. There was his bed, a latrine, a chronograph, a small metal desk, and a vox unit built into the wall under the chronograph. Lying on his desk was a red and black tunic that was neatly folded and stacked. He quickly undressed and tosses his ragged clothes onto the bed. Next he put on the Exorcist's tunic and paused to look at the daemon skull emblazoned on the tabard. He checked the chronograph and made sure he was ready. The vox beeped and a calm voice came sounded.

"All aspirants report to the Main Hall. The first of many trials will begin today. Details will be given to you once you're assembled. May the Emperor watch over you," announced the vox. Vitrol opened the door to see a steadily moving stream of people moving down the hallway in the direction of the Main Hall. Vitrol stepped out into the crowd and moved along with the mass of people. He normally got lost on the way to any place in the fortress but someone leading the crowd hopefully knew what way they were going. Then he saw the great doors of the Main Hall open by unseen operators. Vitrol stumbled forward as the crowd began to move once more. He quickly recovered and continued marching for fear of being trampled.

"Not the most glorious way to die," thought Vitrol ruefully. The Main hall was as remarkable as ever and Vitrol stared at the high gothic style ceiling and the huge dais that was raised on anti-grav units on the far end of the Hall. A hand reached out and rested on his shoulder. It spun him around to face his friend Nols Pran.

"Vitrol! I've found you! I've been looked forever for you! What is your cell numb-," Nols said excitedly before being cut off by Vitrol.

"Wait, wait! Nols you have to slow down if you expect me for me to understand you. It's nice to see you made it here in one piece," laughed Vitrol. Nols was practically his brother. His parents had been killed by Dark Eldar pirates on a raid they had made to Jaris. Nols was only four and so Vitrol and his family brought him under their wing. He and Nols always tried to best each other whenever they could but they were close-knit brothers. Nols had actually taught him to fight and Vitrol was eternally grateful. Nols opened his mouth to reply but a figure had appeared at the dais and all the chatter from the aspirants died away to a quiet murmur.

"Hello to all aspirants. I'd like to introduce myself to those who don't know who I am. I am Chief Librarian Firben. The 200 of you have all shown potential to becoming one of the Emperor's Space Marines and becoming an Exorcist. The trials you will be put through will most likely kill you or reveal your flaws and weaknesses, so leave now if you don't want to risk death," the mighty Librarian said. The smiles on the faces of the aspirants drained away at the last statement but no one moved. The venerable Librarian nodded in approval and continued," Your first trial will be a Gladiatorial free for all fight in the Arena. You are to kill as many of your fellow aspirants as you can and try to stay alive until 50 of you remain. You will then proceed to fight as a group against something you will only see and know about if you live through the preliminary blooding. Sergeant Drall will direct you to the Arena Armoury where you will be allowed to choose your weapon that you will use in the combat. All of the weapons are warded. Choose whatever weapon you feel most comfortable with but choose it wisely. The weapon you have chosen may affect you if you survive the Arena and are suited for a certain path."

Vitrol noticed that Nols was unusually quiet after the Librarian's explanation of the first trial.

"Why are we using warded blades? The Exorcists do fight daemons and all but we're all human," said Nols, noticing Vitrol's confused stare.

"Maybe the thing he didn't say is a daemon? Could they really just set a daemon free in their fortress?" asked Vitrol.

"I'm sure they'd have some way to contain it but the idea of fighting a Daemon so early is kind of scary."

"Are you fearful for your life?"

"You know I am not. I wouldn't have accepted to be a space marine aspirant. I'm more worried about the others. The ones who have to fight with us against it. Will they be able to resist?"

"Well we know we're a fighting duo so let us find likeminded comrades whose faith is unshakeable."

"Yes, they must be so if we are to defeat the daemon," a voice chimed in. Both Vitrol and Nols turned to see who had jumped into their private conversation. "My name is Ferik Benvar, and sorry for interrupting but I couldn't help but overhearing yourselves. I have formed a battle group of twenty members give or take a few. We could really use your skills in the coming battle and together we'll make it to the Daemon challenge for sure."

Vitrol considered the offer. He leaned over to whisper in Nols ear. Nols in turn whispered to Vitrol and he nodded. "Alright, we'd be honored to fight alongside you and your comrades."

"Good," Ferik said while a smile.

"Alright the aspirants have one hour to prepare themselves. Sergeant Drall?" the Chief Librarian said. He nodded to Firben and turned full circle and set off. The 200 aspirants rose and began to follow the Exorcist into the east wing and into battle at the arena.

Vitrol walked into the amoury as soon as he could. He wanted a good and dependable weapon. The venerable sergeant had assured them these weapons were the finest quality for this trial but Vitrol had to make sure. The amoury was a vast room and held every type of weapon he and Nols could think of. From simple swords to axes to fists to flails and to glaives, this place had all of it and all of it was warded. Nols grabbed a pair of ornate steel claws and tried them on. Ferik found a large wicked looking axe that was about the size of Ferik's barrel chest. Vitrol picked up sword after sword but found none to his liking. He was about to give up and go look at the glaives when he spied a sword that had shattered near the crossguard. He lifted it up out of the rack and tested its balance. Despite being broken the blade remained balanced and Vitrol felt confident in its ability to kill.

"You better be able to kill the final thing with it. Not to mention the other combatants," Ferik said when he saw what weapon Vitrol was looking at. Nols looked equally dubious of his choice.

"This weapon will be able to kill any man or daemon. Do not worry about my ability," replied Vitrol callously. He glanced at the shattered blade and nodded again. This blade could possibly kill a traitor marine he thought. Ferik nodded and turned around and called out into the crowd. A large and muscled man came through the mass of aspirants and stood in front on Ferik.

"Sir?" the large man asked Ferik.

Ferik turned around to face the two friends once more. "This is my second in command of our arena group. His name is Gratil." Gratil lifted his large flail to his chest in salute.

"Welcome, Vitrol and Nols. May the Emperor be with you when you fight with us," Gratil said after his introduction. Nols saluted and Vitrol did the same after a second of hesitation.

"The Hour of Preparation is up; begin your entering of the Arena. Good luck to all of you," boomed the voice of the Sergeant over the dull roar of the aspirants own conversations. A remarkable feat in its own right but undoubtedly aided by an internal vox on the towering armour thought Vitrol.

"Remember the plan we went over Vitrol and Nols," warned Ferik. Ferik watched as they nodded and turned away from him and Gratil. "Remember _our_ plan and don't do anything until my signal," Ferik said to the giant man.

"Right, nothing will go wrong for us. What one may I have though?" Gratil replied.

"Vitrol is mine. You can have his friend," Ferik retorted. Gratil smiled and they both began walking to the Arena and to victory.


End file.
